


the sin that i will confess

by satelliteofsins



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Buzzfeed Unsolved Cinematic Universe
Genre: Detective Noir, Dubious Consent, Implied Sexual Content, Kidnapping, Knife Play, M/M, mentions of Mayor Madej
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21532231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satelliteofsins/pseuds/satelliteofsins
Summary: 17 stake-outs. no results. what's it gonna take to finish this case?
Relationships: Ricky Goldsworth & C.C. Tinsley, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	the sin that i will confess

"I d o n ' t g e t d i s o b e y e d."

Tinsley was out. He was out of it. His head was filled with painful fuzz, like iron wool scraping at his skull. Vision was slowly forming like the static haze of a CRT monitor. A beating pain bounced around inside his head. He was tremendously lucky that the room was dark.

If this was even a room.

Smell, mankind's oldest and most developed sense, had kicked in, and Tinsley wished it hadn't. The horribly sharp and sterile smell of bleach. It was so strong it had to be masking _something_. With another painful sniff, there was a tinge of awful odour of meat and gristle. He flexed his tired limbs to no avail; handcuffs on his wrists and rope on his legs. Not too compromising of a position, at least he was clothed this time.

"I said I don't get **disobeyed**."

_disobeyed? what the fuck? who the-_

"Hnngfs-" His eyes snapped open wider to see a whole lot of nothing. A really dimly lit room. The meagre light there was caught on the face of someone, maybe three metres away. "You're in trouble, mister."

"And you're tied up. Good of you to bring your own handcuffs. My last ones were dumped into a river along with the gentleman in them." came the reply, with the sound of a smile.

There was a fizzle of a bulb, and that sad bulb lit up, hanging morosely from its wire. A basement. Ricky Goldsworth's basement. Ricky Goldsworth. Three metres away. Black hair, dark eyes, a little stubble, in a dark suit and undone tie.

The _bastard_.

Tinsley had had no intent of writing a memoir. His life as a police detective up to this point had been tracking down your average mugger, solving embarrassing neighbourhood disputes, finding stolen items for old grandmas who'd been burgled after leaving their back door open to let in cats. Then he was put up to the case of the mayor's disappearance, and the absolute circus that came after could've filled two novels. The mayor was widely loved, was fair but firm, and had no real enemies. No political rivals had had any meaningful motive to act upon any urges. It was only after a letter arrived at the department written in beautiful calligraphy that Tinsley had started this wild goose chase for Goldsworth. His fellow detectives had written it off as some prankster, and pointed out other leads, but he knew better. His skills had been wasted for years, he could finally put some proper scumbag to justice, for the love of God just ONCE. 17 stake-outs, no sign of the elusive new man in town. But then last night he'd gotten out of his car for a closer look at the house. That's the last thing he could remember.

"Yes, your car is perfectly safe. I was wondering how long it would take for you to step out of it. Playing it safe."

"Get me out of these now, scumbag."

"I know you have demands, Tinsley. But so do I." he said, calmly, with a voice like iron sheathed in silk. "Why do you keep investigating me? You know you have no proof. You're doing stake-outs in your free time. Must be desperate for results."

"I'm tied up in your basement? Is that not evidence enough? What, do innocent people tie up detectives? You've admitted to some guy in the river!" Tinsley spat, pulling at his handcuffs and ropes. He looked down. Empty holster.

"He was just a plaything. But he'll be two towns away by now. And unrecognizable, that I know."

Goldsworth shifted his chair quite a bit further forward.

"The real main prize is you." he said, blindingly white teeth bared in a smile. Less like a smile, more like an animal.

"Goldsworth, you-"

"Call me Ricky." A hand landed on Tinsley's knee.

_what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fu-_

"Stop interrupting me, scumbag." Tinsley choked out.

"How about I confess? Wouldn't that be a fun game?" said Ricky. "But you have to confess too. A sin for a sin, Detective..."

He sighed nervously, staring unblinking into the madman's eyes. The single interesting case he had decided to follow lead to this kind of madness. He swallowed. Ricky shifted in his chair.

"I suppose I'll start then. I didn't kill the mayor. But he's working for me. Enslaved. Doing a fine job. Has to call me sir." He smiled. Tinsley swallowed again, and Ricky noticed. "Well, not in that kind of way. He's a wimp. Couldn't handle that. Your turn, detective."

"Uhh..I might like whiskey a bit too much."

"That I could tell from your breath." He said curtly, reaching for Tinsley's lips, and dragging his thumb gently down to his unshaven chin. "What about something scandalous..."

From the way he was acting, he either already knew or was just REALLY overly touchy. But he was unhinged, completely unhinged. No, Tinsley was rational, he wasn't talking about it. He could just look at him and stay silent. Looking at Ricky was difficult, especially concerning the subject matter. The undone tie was a little distracting, not to mention the ornate rings on his hands. Really nice hands. _God..._

"Uhhh..." came the noise form Tinsley's mouth, unprompted. _Tinsley you're a fucking dolt._

"Go on. You're a detective. Detect. What do I want to hear?" he drawled, drawing a knife from his pocket. His stare was intense, lips curled into a coy smile, just open enough to reveal his teeth. His gaze dragged down the detective's body _not there not there not there not there don't look there say something **say something**_

"You disgust me. Just let me go, please. I'll stop the case-"

"You disgust yourself then." retorted Ricky.

"My tendencies are reserved for when I'm alone." said Tinsley, finally gaining some confidence he didn't even know he'd lost.

"So you admit to them! Thank God... now I have some confirmation." he rose from his chair and walked around Tinsley. Lightly he pressed the blade to Tinsley's throat.

Tinsley stared forward, unblinking, unmoving. He was preparing to scream out as loud as he could. It would be cut short. But it would raise suspicion. The neighbours would hear. The investigations would move to the house. Perhaps by dying, he'd bring him to justice. There was a twisted logic. But it was logic. The logic stopped when the blade dragged softly across the soft skin of his neck, occasionally catching on his stray stubble. Ricky moved behind him. An arm slid down over his shoulder, down into his collar, down his shirt a little.

"You got me okay?" he choked out, trying so hard to not move his vocal chords, or his throat might bump against that fucking knife.

"I'd got you before. I was thinking of putting on a little show for you while you were staking me out. Just up on the balcony. Inviting you in."

"Are you gonna kill me or what, huh?" he grunted through gritted teeth, some tears forming in the corner of his eyes. Too much emotion going on for his tastes.

"No! Then the chase would end! I never want the chase to end... when I skip town I want you to follow me. And I know you will. " The knife lifted from his skin, and the hand feeling his chest whipped back up out of his shirt, leaving him a little colder.

"F-fuck you.. you knew about the stake-out. You shoulda put on the show then. It gets lonely in that fuckin' car."

"Well now it's two of us, all alone, in a nice deep basement where no one will hear." Ricky said coquettishly. At least Tinsley didn't scream before. The handcuffs clicked open. "You want it?"

He let out a breath. A nod.

"Hands on your lap." came his voice from behind, just behind Tinsley's ear. He did it. He wanted to do it.

The ropes were unbound next, and still Tinsley sat just so, politely waiting for instructions. He wasn't going to disobey. Ricky's suit jacket was thrown to the floor with a soft whump, and Tinsley drank up the sight of his nemesis in that just-translucent-enough shirt.

"You're gonna chase me when I skip town. You're gonna chase me when I skip countries. But you're never gonna catch me. Understood? I want the game to go on."

_fuck, god i just want the game to start jesus god_

Zzzip.

"On your knees."

"Yes, sir."

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Modern Day Cain by I Don't Know How But They Found Me.  
> I might continue into smut next chapter.  
> Thanks for reading!


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